It's been a long time, but I still have
nightmares about it. You probably do, too. The Date From Hell, remember?
Remember meeting that girl or guy that you knew from the start was wrong
for you?

I sure remember. I would be in the middle
of a dating cold streak -- a spell so dry that it drew fan mail from priests
-- when somebody, somewhere would set me up on a blind date. I'd put on
my best new attitude and go on the date. Of course, the minute I got there
I knew she was all wrong for me. But I figured, "Hey, she's not so
bad. Maybe I should give her a chance."

And I did. Which was my biggest mistake.

It was a mistake because I knew it was
wrong to begin with. Instead of longing for her to call, I dreaded it.
I had to think up stories to stall her off. But I had few alternatives.
So I went right ahead made my second mistake.

I figured that if I asked her out again,
she might turn me down and I'd be out of it forever. No such luck. She
said yes. So now it had gone beyond one date and was beginning to fester
into a -- gulp -- relationship.

And so the torture continued, with every
one of my plans backfiring on me. My brain was racked with guilt: on the
one hand, I was trying to be kind to the Date From Hell by letting her
down gently. On the other, I knew I was doomed to meeting her parents
if I didn't think up something fast.

And then it hit me: how about using the
truth?

The truth! Now there's a strategy that
doesn't occur to you every day. I put together a rather convincing argument
that she was terrific. I was terrific. But together, we weren't so terrific.
In fact, what we had was two terrific people and one incredibly bad fit.

She bought it. And from that day on, I
rarely left any relationship on anything other than good terms.

So why would I bore you with this story?
Because there are times when business goes from slow to dead. And those
are the times when we're most vulnerable to taking on bad business and
less than desirable clients. Sure, we rationalize that we have to pay
the rent. But just like the Date From Hell, we know it's wrong the minute
we sign them up.

So how do you get out of a bad relationship?

Well, it starts at the beginning of the
relationship. Always have the client sign a service agreement that outlines
the ground rules of the relationship. They key items are specifying what
has to be done, how to tell when each task is completed and how long the
relationship is supposed to last.

That last point is critical, because it
acts as a "dead man's" switch, terminating the relationship
per the terms of the agreement. Which means that in the worst of cases,
you can bite the bullet and then choose not to renew.

Of course, for those of us who haven't
yet learned that lesson, you have to take the more direct route, and like
the Date From Hell situation, use the tool they least expect: the truth.

Chances are that if your client is making
your life a living hell, they already suspect the relationship is no good.
Just like the Date From Hell, they're probably looking for a way out,
too. But even if they're not, you have to keep in mind that hell hath
no fury like a client scorned. While tossing off excuses like, "we're
too busy to handle your account" may feel good while you're actually
saying it, it can come up on you faster than rotten garlic when it comes
to ruining your professional reputation. All it takes is one prospective
client to call your last kissed-off puppy to scuttle your entire fiscal
year.

I've found that there are two truthful,
ethical ways to deal with bad clients. The first is to raise your rates.
Really high. The wisdom here is that if you're really going to suffer,
you might as well get rich from it. But you can truthfully tell your client
that servicing their account does indeed require more resources than you
originally expected. If they buy it, they'll pay. If they don't they'll
walk. Either way, you win.

Of course, there are going to be times
when nothing but the truth is going to suffice. And in those cases, I
suggest you take the high road and tell the client what they need to hear:
they're terrific and you're terrific. But together, you're not so terrific.
What you've got here is a bad fit. Say that and you'll get the one thing
you thought you'd never, ever get from that client:

Real respect.

Pledge to finish what you've started,
but take on no new projects. Offer to help them find a replacement for
you. Then you can waltz away freely, knowing that the Client From Hell
won't be badmouthing you around town.